Get in Touch
Please fill in the form below to send me a note. Thanks!
A poem a day ... along the way
Day: minus 4 to camino
Location: Karratha ➡️ Perth ➡️ London ➡️ Lisbon
Distance to Santiago: 620.2 km
Issues: Slight concern over left ankle I may have sprained a week ago in a swimming pool mishap. Feeling extremely jet lagged and foggy in the brain.
Weather: glorious sunshine
Life lesson: A friend in need, is a friend indeed 💕
I love London. So lovely to finally arrive for a very quick stop to see Adrienne (and Davide! 😊) at the London Gin Club’s The Star in Soho. A crazy 24 hours when as much as I tried to follow a certain path, the universe had other ideas and turned things on their head. For example I made a point to stay at the same place Ady was so we could catch up as much as possible before I flew out, but inexplicably I ended up in a Turkish boarding house a million miles away from anywhere... all part of the adventure I guess! A special thanks to Davide who booked me an uber when delirium set in - thank you!
This poem is about the flashes of clarity amid the fog of jet lag.
Tell the man in the gold Mercedes you are David.
Traffic. Lonely street.
Where am I again?
Flashes intrude. A Turkish boarding house you say?
Clattering clinking chatter.
This used to be a Café.
A gin menu now. Spiral staircase down. Narrow steps, like counting backward into oblivion.
They call it the incendiary point where it all begins. A flash.
Threads of life woven together but it’s flawed.
Itching to pull the errant string. Dangling there.
Will it unravel or hold?
Disassociation. A lady’s lost her wedding ring down the plane seat.
Brain admits defeat.
Parched land. Cupboard bare.
Not a drop for smoothing over the cracks.
Not a second even for disappointment.
It sits comfortably. It’s temporary you know.
The final stage. The departure lounge.
Exit signs glow.
Final chapters read. Signed off.
Offload it all.
Just resting my eyes. What do they see?
A Romanian castle.
Wood Green. Where? What?
Kicking myself, but not too hard I plead.
Which zone screams the alarm.
It’s 8am somewhere.
A pink petal swirls around a cauldron of my thoughts.
Make it stop. Please.
Tick tock. Tick tock.
Follow the arrow.
That’s all I need to know.
Almost out of time. For the beginning of the silence.
Threads of time. A fine line.
A confounding mess.
A puzzle that makes my heart sing and my head spin.
Until the fog sets in.
Chipping away but I can’t get in,
Icebergs catch the light, frozen in time.
In a vintage glass.
I am spent. Letting go of the thread.
Worlds spin. Gin to the left.
Will you sing karaoke in Japan?
Just follow the path.
All will be fine.
Like magic, problems evaporate, disappear.
Only awake because I’m holding them in my heart.
But if I let them go, they are forgotten like I never knew them.
Threads of time. A fine line.
Escalator down, please keep to the right.
Spiral below into the ether
Who will come out the other side?
And will you believe her?